


good old-fashioned lover boy

by miamibeetch



Category: Bohemian Rhapsody (Movie 2018), Queen (Band)
Genre: Blow Jobs, Deepthroating, First Time, Friends to Lovers, Hand Jobs, Hate Sex, M/M, News of the World (Queen) Era, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Public Sex, Smut, They're a match made in heaven, Unrequited Love, brian is a stubborn bitch, freddie is a little shit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-18
Updated: 2019-10-18
Packaged: 2020-12-22 13:55:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,073
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21077891
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/miamibeetch/pseuds/miamibeetch
Summary: “I’m the one who’s meant to start the song, so maybe if you had all just listened to me—”Freddie threw his full weight against Brian, knocking the taller man solidly in the chest hard enough to cause him to lose a bit of his footing.“God damn it, Fred,” Brian growled, fisting one of the suspenders that Freddie wore over his bare chest in each of his hands and slamming him back into the wall of the hallway. “For once, just listen to me.”The air between them crackled with electricity.All at once, Freddie became keenly aware of how tight his shorts were. And how much contact there was between Brian’s body and his own. And how much more of that he wanted.





	good old-fashioned lover boy

**Author's Note:**

> hi everyone! i took this "argument" (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wAxFUZHxnn0) and decided to run with it because i'm a horny bastard XD this is the first fic i'm ever posting, so i hope you all enjoy this filth; please let me know if there's anything you particularly enjoy/would like to see more of!

At 11:30PM on the 11th of November 1977, of three things Freddie Mercury was absolutely certain: he had just given the worst performance of his career, he needed a drink—or several, and he was going to kill Brian May.

Tragedy had struck about halfway through the concert. Still riding the high of the enthusiastic audience participation he had managed to garner during “Now I’m Here”, he’d been fully prepared to jump into “Sheer Heart Attack”. Brian, however, had had other plans. Rather than keeping the blistering pace that they’d all rehearsed and agreed upon during soundcheck, he had decided to slow things down to  _ his _ liking without making anyone else privy to the fact. The result had been disastrous to say the least. 

Roger, whose job it was to keep time for them all, had launched into the tempo they’d agreed upon. Almost immediately, his eyes had widened, darting from John’s to Freddie’s, and finally to the back of Brian’s head as he continued to keep pace, as if boring holes into the guitarist’s skull might speed up his hands.

Brian, oblivious as he always was when trying to peacock that damn guitar of his in front of the audience, maintained a grueling pace hardly even half the speed of that which they’d put on the record, let alone agreed upon for tour.

John, more than a little confused by the conflicting tempos coming from beside and behind himself, had simply allowed his bass to fall from his hands and swing back against his body after plucking just a few notes. He hadn’t even attempted to rejoin the song until about halfway through, when it was unlikely that his efforts would be heard at all beneath the hammering guitar chords.

And Freddie, front and center as always, had been made to look the fool—spitting lyrics rapidfire against the cacophony until his ears had stopped ringing long enough to realize how horrendously off beat he’d been.

Though they had managed to get back on track for what few numbers remained of their set following that trainwreck, the audience had never quite regained their spark.  _ Yes _ , Freddie thought to himself, gritting his teeth as they took their final bows against the strains of Red bloody Special’s “God Save the Queen”,  _ I’m going to kill a man tonight. _

~~~

As soon as they dismounted the stage, his hand was around Brian’s wrist like a vice. Before the guitarist had a chance to protest, he had dragged him off to one of the many empty hallways in the labyrinth that was the underbelly of the arena.

“What the  _ fuck _ was that?” He spat, gesturing wildly into the air.

“Funny, I was about to ask you the same thing,” Brian shot back, his words dripping with vitriol.

“Mind telling me exactly what were you doing during Sheer Heart Attack? Taking a nap? Pulling yourself off? For fuck’s sake!”

Brian flushed, face colored red by the flaring of this temper. “I’m not sure what the rest of you were doing, but  _ I  _ was playing what I’ve always played.”

“ _ No _ , you were not,” he shouted exasperatedly. “You were playing  _ ni nii niii nii ni _ .” His impression of Red Special was, at best, wildly offensive—not least because he punctuated each whine with a stroke of an invisible cock.

“I played  _ exactly _ what is on the record, Fred.”

Freddie caught sight of Brian’s hands curled into loose fists at his sides and smiled cruelly. “Oh, I see. Want to fight, do you?”

“What I want is for you to consider for one  _ bleeding _ second that what happened out there might have been your own damn fault,” he bristled, punctuating his words with a shove to Freddie’s shoulders.

The air forced out of his lungs only served to fan the flames of the inferno between them. “Un-fucking-believable.” He barked a laugh, shoving Brian back, hard. “You’re expecting all of us to be  _ perfect— _ ” 

“What did you say?”

He stumbled slightly backwards with the force of another push from Brian. “—before you even  _ attempt—” _

“Oh, don’t be so fucking ridiculous—”

“I’m sorry.  _ I’m  _ being ridiculous? You’re the one who decided he wanted to turn Roger’s  _ punk  _ song into a funeral dirge!”

“I’m the one who’s meant to start the song, so maybe if you had all just listened to me—”

Freddie threw his full weight against Brian, knocking the taller man solidly in the chest hard enough to cause him to lose a bit of his footing.

“God damn it, Fred,” Brian growled, fisting one of the suspenders that Freddie wore over his bare chest in each of his hands and slamming him back into the wall of the hallway. “For once,  _ just listen to me _ .” 

The air between them crackled with electricity.

All at once, Freddie became keenly aware of how tight his shorts were. And how much contact there was between Brian’s body and his own. And how much more of that he wanted. So, in a mess of teeth and tongue and limbs, he fisted his hands in Brian’s collar and crashed their lips together.

Their teeth knocked together harshly but he couldn’t be bothered to care as he forced his tongue into Brian’s mouth.

Brian moaned obscenely against his lips, pressing closer to pin him against the wall. He kissed back in earnest, hands skimming up and down Freddie’s sides.

Freddie’s skin sang in response to the touch, each brush of those calloused fingertips on his body seeming to say  _ I own you, I own you, I own you _ . 

_ Two can play at that game. _

Still licking hungrily into Brian’s mouth, he reached behind the guitarist’s head to fist a hand in his hair and curled his other hand around the juncture where his neck met his shoulder.

He pulled hard on the dark curls, bringing Brian down to his height and drawing their bodies still somehow closer. It was only then, when he felt something warm and hard and  _ long _ brush against his thigh, that he broke from the kiss. He chuckled breathlessly, leaning his head back against the wall and shaking it in disbelief.

“Brimi,” he said with an impish grin, his voice hitching with tiny pants of breath, “you’re  _ hard. _ ”

Brian blinked, his pupils blown wide. “How long?”

Freddie tilted his head, his brow creased with confusion. “Sorry?”

“How long… Have you wanted to do that for?” His voice was soft, though due to his lack of breath or something else Freddie wasn’t sure.

“Oh, an age, darling.” He raised his hand from Brian’s shoulder to cup his cheek, lightly skimming his thumb over the bone of it. “I’ve wanted to kiss the smug look off of your face since that first Smile gig Tim invited me to at Imperial.”

Brian’s tongue darted out between his lips, wetting them just so slightly before disappearing back between them. “That long, huh?”

“That long,” he said softly, his heart blooming with warmth at the memory.

Brian considered this for a moment, then leaned forward to press his lips gently to Freddie’s. Where their kisses only moments prior had been fueled by passion, this one was ruled by something far more potent. Love—so much of it that Freddie feared that he just might drown.

After just a few moments, Brian pulled away. Though, he didn’t go far, resting his forehead against Freddie’s. As the pair of them stood there, simply breathing the same air, Brian opened and closed his mouth a number of times but said nothing.

Freddie had known the guitarist long enough that could see the gears turning in his head just from the way his eyes darted from side to side. Sometimes, it was simply too hard for him to find the words. So, rather than watch him suffer any longer, he decided that he would speak for both of them.

“I love you, too,” he whispered.

Brian merely nodded, the look in his eyes more than enough for Freddie to know he’d said just the right thing. Without any further preamble, he wrapped his arms tightly around Freddie, resting his chin on the older man’s shoulder. Freddie, in turn, wrapped his arms around Brian, holding him close. How nice, he thought, it was to hold and be held.

~~~

Freddie wasn’t sure how long they stood there, wrapped up in each other, hearts beating in time, simply  _ being _ , but at some point, he found himself no longer able to ignore the cock still pressed against him.  _ Brian  _ pressed against him. His own cock stirred with interest at the thought, still hard and standing at attention in his shorts. After a moment, he let his arms uncurl from the embrace, placing one of his hands at Brian’s waist. He trailed the other down the guitarist's chest, lower and lower between them, until he finally found what he was looking for. He brushed his fingertips over the bulge before firmly resting the heel of his hand upon it.

“Brian,” he said softly, questioningly.

Brian lifted his head from Freddie’s shoulder, meeting his gaze with hooded eyes and parted lips. “Please,” he said, the word little more than a whisper.

The quiver in Brian’s voice, the  _ need _ , struck Freddie straight to his core. He’d wanted this for so long—they both had. So what were they waiting for?

Quickly realizing that he had no answer to that question, he captured Brian’s lips with his own, stroking the other man’s tongue with his own as he began to palm him through his trousers.

Brian moaned against his lips, arching his hips into his hand.

Freddie caught Brian’s lower lip between his teeth, tugging harshly as he picked up the pace of his hand.

Brian’s hands slid from Freddie’s back down to his ass, tugging him closer with a firm grip on each cheek. This shift in position found Freddie’s cock trapped between their thighs, each roll of Brian’s hips providing delicious friction. He’d barely been touched, but that hardly mattered. Taking care of Brian in such a way was a pleasure all its own.

Though, following a particularly hard thrust from Brian, he found himself experiencing a very different sort of pleasure. The direct pressure to his swollen tip had him seeing stars, his hand momentarily faltering in its minstrations as he pulled his lips away from Brian’s with a gasp.

“ _ Fuck _ , Bri,” he hissed.

Flushed and breathless as he was, Brian wore a smirk. “I can’t have  _ all _ the fun, can I?”

“I… I suppose it is a bit unfair,” he replied, still feeling the slightest bit like he was floating.

“I think I’ve got a solution.”

Before he had a chance to ask Brian what he had in mind, the taller man used the grip he had on his ass to lift him off the ground, pressing him back against the wall for leverage.

Freddie scrambled for purchase as he felt his feet leave the ground, hooking his legs around Brian’s waist and looping his arms around his neck to pull him closer. “A bit of warning might’ve been nice,” he griped, punctuating his words with a sharp tug to Brian’s curls.

Brian chuckled, his breath warm on Freddie’s cheeks.

“What?”

“It’s just…” He smiled so fondly that Freddie feared he would melt. “Only you would complain at a time like this.”

“Oh, do shut up.”

Brian, seemingly more than happy to comply, instead occupied his mouth by littering Freddie’s face and neck with sloppy kisses. He paid particular attention to the underside of his jaw, alternating between nipping the sensitive skin there and laving his tongue over it.

Freddie whined in the back of his throat and tightened his legs around Brian’s waist. He arched his lower back off of the wall to thrust his hips forward, rolling them to grind his aching cock against Brian’s through the fabric of their trousers.

Brian inhaled sharply through his nose, mouth still occupied with tending to Freddie’s jawline. He began to roll his own hips, meeting every thrust of Freddie’s with one of his own.

“ _ Now _ you can keep up?” Freddie laughed breathlessly, though the sound was soon overtaken by a long, keening moan.

He had moved on from Freddie’s jaw and trailed his lips downward, now greedily sucking on the juncture where the base of his neck met his shoulder. 

“Lovie, lovie, lovie,” Freddie chanted, his head fuzzy with the feeling of everything, “I’m not going to last very long if you— _ oh! _ ”

Brian bit down hard, picking up the pace of his hips.

Freddie clung to him, meeting every thrust with the fervor of a man possessed.

It wasn’t long before he felt his hips begin to stutter, tell-tale coils of heat twisting in his belly.

“Brimi,” he gasped, resting his head back against the wall to look him in the eyes. “I—” His breath hitched in his throat.

“Me too,” Brian said, his voice strained with arousal. “Let’s try and get there together, yeah?”

Before Freddie could answer, Brian had pressed his lips to his own, kissing him slowly, thoroughly as they continued to fuck themselves against each other. The combination of the hands tangled in his hair, the tongue so languidly stroking his own, and the delicious, rhythmic friction against his cock quickly became too much and Freddie hastily broke his lips from Brian’s

“Please… please...” The words were little more than panting breaths, his eyes wide and desperate. “I want— I need—”

  
“Anything, love. Anything,” Brian soothed, pausing his movement for a moment to allow the other man to catch his breath.

“Will you finish me?” Freddie asked breathlessly.

He blinked once, twice, and then nodded, the action little more than a jerky tilt of his head. “Can you stand?”

Using the wall and his hold on the back of Brian’s neck for leverage, Freddie straightened his legs and lowered himself to the floor. His knees were stiff from being bent for so long, his muscles like overstretched rubber bands. His legs were like a newborn foal’s, shaky and not quite sure of themselves. But, with a wall behind him and Brian in front of him, he was sure could stand.

“All good?” Brian said after a moment, his eyes searching Freddie’s for any hint of hesitation.

Freddie took the guitarist’s—his guitarist’s—hand in his own, lifting it to his lips for a kiss before pressing the palm of it against the flat of his lower belly, all whilst holding his gaze.

“Okay,” he said softly, his tongue darting out to wet his lips. He trailed his fingers down Freddie’s abdomen until they reached the waistband of his shorts. He made quick work of the button—Freddie thanked god that there was only one—and took Freddie in his hand.

It took everything in him not to come at just the feeling of his hand around him—the soft palm, the calloused fingertips, the tenderness of the touch, all so uniquely  _ Brian _ . For a moment, he thought he might be able to hold on, to teeter on the edge and enjoy for just a bit longer. But, after only three strokes of Brian’s hand, his vision went white.

“ _ Fuck, Brimi _ ,” he cried, his legs trembling with both exhaustion and the force of his orgasm. His hands scrambled for purchase along Brian’s back as he spilled messily over his hand.

Brian twined his free arm around Freddie’s waist, supporting him through the aftershocks of his release. Once he saw that Freddie had finally caught his breath, he pressed a soft kiss to his nose. “Was that what you wanted?” He asked coyly.

Freddie didn’t grant the question with an answer, instead sinking to his knees. He undid the button and zipper of Brian’s trousers quickly and wasted no time taking all of him into his mouth.

Brian swore, reaching down to card a hand through his hair and fist it at the back of his head. 

He began to bob his head up and down the length, hollowing his cheeks the more of him he took and swirling his tongue around the head with every round.

“Fred…” He sighed heavily, his hips rocking slightly with each of Freddie’s tokes.

Each time his eyes fluttered closed of their own accord, he opened them again, his gaze locked on Freddie.

_ He likes to watch. _

“ _ Christ _ , Freddie…”

He wrapped his hand around the base of Brian, giving him a firm squeeze with each bob of his head. He could tell Brian was close when the hand in his hair tightened, urging him forward. So, making sure to breathe through his nose, he swallowed the tip of Brian past his gag reflex. 

Not a second later, Brian came hard and hot down his throat with a sharp cry, using the hand he had tangled in Freddie’s hair to hold him in place.

Freddie swallowed everything he could, the feeling of Brian in his mouth and the taste of his release on his tongue nearly too much to bear. When Brian’s grip on his hair loosened, he pulled off him and slumped against the wall, his head swimming delightfully from lack of oxygen. His chest rose and fell sharply with his intakes of breath, his heart racing to make up for what it had been missing.

Brian, ever the caretaker, had already tucked himself back into his trousers and knelt to the ground in front of him, cupping his cheek ever so lightly. “Are you alright?” He asked quietly.

He didn’t know whether to laugh or cry at such a ridiculous question. “I’m  _ magnificent _ .”

Brian merely smiled and shook his head before placing a soft kiss upon his brow. “Well, seeing as you’re ‘magnificent’ and we’ve been missing for a good long while, I think it would be best if we got back to the others before they decide to send out a search party. What do you think about that?”

“I think that’s an excellent idea.” Freddie buttoned his shorts, brushing drops of drying cum off of them the best he could, and reached a hand up to Brian. “Care to escort me to the dressing room?”

He took his hand, using it to pull him up and then squeezing it tightly. “I thought you’d never ask.”

So, hand in hand, the two headed back from whence they came—now, so very different, but in many ways so much the same as they’d always been. 


End file.
